


Crybaby

by Savi909



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 02:06:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9299363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savi909/pseuds/Savi909
Summary: After Hermione's torture under the wand of Bellatrix Lestrange, she's taken to Spinner's End under the medical care of one Severus Snape. Healing is hard, but when a new family starts to build around Hermione, Harry, and Draco, can they overcome the ghosts of war together?





	1. April 1997

_Two days after my torture…                                                                                         April 1997_

When I woke up on day two at Shell Cottage, I cried.

Fleur was tending to my arm, afraid that it would get a magical infection without being cleaned and rewrapped often. Tears gently spilled over onto my pillow as I laid there and watched her, and she seemed lost in concentration. I hadn’t been able to do a lot of moving around due to a magical fatigue, which I had Bellatrix Lestrange to thank for, so everyone had to visit me in the room that had become mine. But Fleur is the only one I let inside.

“’Ermione, ‘vill you be okay ‘vile I go downstairs?” Fleur asked me while packing up her medical kit. I nodded at her, wiping my face with my right hand while I stared at the bandage on my left forearm. Apparently satisfied with my silent reply, the witch dropped a supportive kiss to my forehead, leaving me in my locked room by myself.

I used this time to think about what had happened at Malfoy Manor.

Once the snatchers had caught us, I’d hexed Harry’s face to swell, but that hadn’t mattered to them. They’d had a list, and we ended up at the Death Eater’s base of operations, and Draco Malfoy didn’t give us up. That had given me hope, until Bellatrix had decided I was full of valuable information and worth torturing. I listened to the boys yelling for me as the cruciatus curse ripped through me multiple times, and I guess I screamed more than I remember because Draco looked like he was going to be sick. Dobby came to the rescue, Harry managed to grab our wands from one of the Death Eaters, Ron had grabbed me, and the next thing I knew I woke up in this bed.

Fleur came back, the sound of my door unlocking brought me out of my thoughts. There was whispering, so I knew she wasn’t alone, but only one voice accompanied hers.

I focused on the black cloaked figure standing in the door way as she came and sat by my bedside. It must be raining in Wiltshire, because his hair, hood, and shoulders appeared damp. Fleur was giving me some potions and talking, but I just watched his dark eyes as they watched me back.

“Snape,” I managed to whisper, licking my cracked lips and making an attempt to sit up.

“Stay there, you silly girl,” he drawled, finally stepping into the tiny bedroom, “take your potions.” He motioned to Fleur, who held up yet another phial, and I took it with my good hand to force it down. I grimaced at the taste, recognizing it as a Blood Replenishing Potion, and then she held the last one up to me.

“No more after ‘zis, ‘Ermione,” she promised, pressing the cool glass into my hand. My eyes leapt from her face to Snape’s, before finally chugging what I realized was Dreamless Sleep as Fleur took the phial from my fingers. The room around me was fading fast, my mind growing heavy with sleep, and I felt her delicate hands guide my body to lay back down.

Voices spun around in my head where my dreams would have been. A lot of them were angry, but there was one constant rumble that seemed soothing, almost peaceful, and I didn’t care anymore what they were saying. My stomach seemed to drop at one point, and I almost jerked awake to dry heave on the floor, but the soothing voice was there and reminded me oddly of my father – the one I’d Obliviated. When I started waking up, my room smelled like potions ingredients, and I wondered if Fleur had moved completely into my room because I was getting worse.

 

~~~~~

I groaned, trying to move my head, but I found myself weak, which made me worried. How long had I been out? Did I get an infection during that time? Was I going to die?

“Calm yourself, Miss Granger,” the voice was back, and very familiar now, “everything will be alright.” A cool hand smoothed my hair from my face, and I relaxed a bit. With a jolt, I placed the voice.

“S-Snape,” I managed to get out, trying not to go back into a panic, “I-I can’t…” He shushed me, bringing a straw to my lips as I drank greedily. I must have been out for a while if I was this parched, I realized, finally stopping myself when I began to feel sick. My eyes refused to open, and I was so weak I couldn’t force them to. Everything hurt.

“Recover, Miss Granger,” he was saying, “you need to heal.”

Snape continued to say that to me for what felt like years, between warm meals he’d feed me and cool glasses of water. Once I could open my eyes, and keep them open, he informed me that it had only been two months. I used my recovered eyesight to try and figure out where I was, and I eventually deducted that he had brought me to his home. The little bedroom he had me squirreled away in felt homely, with my possessions placed as if I had actually been living in this room instead of laying in the bed like a rotting corpse.

After a few more days, I could sit up comfortably, and most of the aches were gone. My one attempt at standing had only increased the pain, which Snape said was a result of the poison in my system. I didn’t want to think too much about it, but I also didn’t want to have to keep relying on my Potions Professor for things I should be able to do myself.

It took me a whole month more to be able to walk again.

And then we got news that the Dark Lord Voldemort had fallen, by Harry’s hands. I cried at the letter he had sent me, telling me about Remus, and Tonks’s deaths. He told me how Neville had killed the snake, how Draco Malfoy had tossed his own wand to Harry, and that Ron was missing. Harry also mentioned that he was going to stay with Sirius, and that I was welcome if I felt better. I smiled, and wrote a short note back, my brain still trying to process everything.

Because I was now able to walk, I had full access to the house, which Snape told me was Spinner’s End, in case I left and needed to come back.  I preferred the library and the kitchen to anywhere else, mostly to stay out of his way. Occasionally I’d fix a meal, just enough for the two of us, and we’d sit down together as he read _The Daily Prophet_ and I would just stare at my food in the comfortable silence. It went on like that for a few weeks, until one morning Snape started a conversation.

“Good morning, Miss Granger,” he said, sitting down at the modest kitchen table while I prepared tea for the two of us. It had become routine.

“Hello,” I said quietly as I placed the tray between our seats. He poured for both of us, which caught me off guard, then prepared my cup the way I had taken it every morning since I could make it to the kitchen on my own. I sat back and watched him be nice to me, before he prepared his own and took a small sip.

“How do you feel today?” He was looking at me intently, in a way that reminded me of my father. I slumped down in the chair a bit, finally taking my mug into my hands, letting it warm me while I tried to figure out what to say.

“Better than yesterday,” I finally answered, looking into my tea. We sat in silence for a while after that, Snape picking up his newspaper as usual.

“It’s Hermione,” I found myself saying suddenly. He looked up at me in confusion, so I spoke again. “Please, call me Hermione.” He gave me a small smile, and a nod, so I gave one of my own, collecting the tea tray and magically charming the dishes to wash, leaving him with his tea and taking my own to my room.


	2. October 1997

_Six months after my torture…                                                                                                      October 1997_

Two months later, I stumbled out of the floo, trying to catch myself but finding a warm pair of arms wrapped around me.

“Hermione, swooning already?” The voice was familiar, deeper than Harry’s. He lifted me in his arms like a child, settling me on the couch to recover from my dizzy spell.

“Padfoot, who’s - “

“It’s little Mia, she’s swooning for me, Harry,” the voice, who I now realized was Sirius Black, called further into the house. Footsteps tumbled down the stairs.

“Hermione! Is she alright?” Harry sounded worried. I tried to sit up, but a strong hand firmly pressed my shoulder back into the cushion.

“Just a bit faint from travel,” Sirius said calmly, “why don’t you go fetch some pumpkin juice for her?” Before I knew it, I was being sat up, with a glass pressed to my lips.

I opened my eyes, finding Harry’s worried gaze trained on me, but that Sirius was the one holding the drink to my mouth. After swallowing some down, the cool glass was pressed against my forehead and I felt a bit better.

“Sorry to worry you,” I said, looking between them with a sheepish smile. In truth, Sirius and Harry, along now with Snape, had become my family since Obliviating my parents to keep them safe. If Snape taking care of me made him my father figure in this family, that made Sirius my rouge uncle, and Harry my cousin, even though he acted more like my brother. Regardless, we’d all grown close through owls, short visits, long floo calls, and our mutual grief from the war, becoming an odd little hodge-podge group of warriors with nightmares.

“Severus isn’t coming?” Sirius looked worried, and I just looked at my lap.

“He, um – the Malfoys,” I stammered, “Narcissa and Draco will be, uh – visiting.” Sirius crouched down in front of me, handing me my glass and lifting my chin, so I had to look at him. My eyes watered, because I knew I looked scared; my nightmares consisted of Bellatrix, who was dead, and Lucius, who was in Azkaban. All three of the men in my life knew that. Narcissa and Draco Malfoy both resembled the objects of my nightmares too closely, it was too hard to see them, even though I knew they asked about me. Sirius and Harry had grown quite close to the Malfoys while I was incapacitated at Spinner’s End, my new home. I just couldn’t do it yet.

“It’s alright, my Mia,” Sirius whispered kindly, “we all know you’re not ready.” He pulled me into a warm hug, and I was instantly comforted by the pine, smoke, and ink smell that always seemed to linger on him.

“Thank you, Siri,” I whispered back. He just held me tightly for a moment, allowing me to draw comfort from him. I smiled, faintly, locking eyes with Harry.

“Maybe I should go over there,” Harry said as we pulled apart. Sirius glanced at him, nodding once, shooing him towards the fireplace. Before he walked through the green flames, Harry shot me a sad smile, and I gave one back.

“Fancy a bubble bath, your Majesty?” Sirius stood, offering his hand to me as if I were royalty. Sometimes, it was like he thought I was his five-year-old daughter, but I can’t deny that I always enjoyed it a bit. Coming to Grimmauld Place felt like a vacation.

“Of course,” I replied, taking his hand and laughing, “what else could I possibly be here for?”

 

 

Half an hour later found me still in the bath, with a knock at the door. Bubbles covered the still-warm water in tall mounds, as my foot played with the faucet knob at the end. Something about the movement soothed me, but with someone at the door and a few sleepless nights behind me, I tensed up, grabbing my wand from the sink next to me.

“Wh-Who is it?” I rasped, my voice shaky from crying.

“It’s Harry, can I come in?” At the sound of his voice, I relaxed and flicked my wand to unlock the door. Carefully, I placed my wand back on the counter, slipping back into the water up to my shoulders and telling him to enter.

He poked his head in at first, shooting me a small, tight lipped smile. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was still worried about me, but I smiled back. Harry shut the door quietly behind him, sitting on the floor next to the claw foot tub and leaning his head against the side, heaving a sigh. I lifted my hand from the water, nonverbally charming it dry and running it through Harry’s thick, black hair.

“You’ve been crying again,” he said.

“I’m still sick, Harry,” I replied in a whisper, “and I feel like the whole world is crashing down around me.” He looked up at me, finally meeting my eyes with a pained expression. “Our entire lives were spent trying to bring down Voldemort, and now? Ron is missing, I’ve had no contact with any of the Weasley’s and I know you haven’t either. Not to mention, both of us still suffer terrible nightmares, and as much as I would love making peace with the Malfoy’s, I’m terribly afraid of them!” Harry wiped at the tears that were streaming down my face, still looking upset.

“How long has all this been bothering you?” He asked. I sunk further into the water, pulling away from him a bit, thinking.

“Since I could walk again,” I admitted.

Harry sighed, drawing his knees up to his chest, reminding me very much of how he used to look in our first few years of Hogwarts. He kind of stared at me for a while, seemingly lost in thought, but I could see he was worried about me, specifically.

“So,” I started, breaking his train of thought, “is everything alright with…them?” I was beginning to get curious. Usually, Harry would come back from seeing the Malfoys and try to guilt me into coming with him next time, or something to that effect. Recently, he’s been quieter on that matter.

“Well, they finally settled everything Lucius had left behind,” Harry said with a grimace. I nodded, waiting for him to continue, and he did. “Narcissa is stripping out the Manor, to redecorate I think, with the help of the Ministry. They want to lock up all the dark artifacts; it’s a bloody mess. As for Draco, I think he’s just trying to lay low, similar to what you and I are doing.”

I hummed, sinking further into the bubbles, afraid to get out by myself but not wanting to ask too much of Harry. I realized a while ago that even though I hate asking for help, I need it desperately sometimes. My body just can’t handle the things, the movement or strain, that it used to.

“Hermione?” Harry whispered gently, and I knew he was hoping I hadn’t gone into myself again. Frequent panic attacks did that to a person, apparently, and my little family would know.

“Sorry, Harry, I got lost in my thoughts,” I admitted, “and I think I need help getting up and dressed.” He jumped up quickly at that, moving to unplug the drain and grabbing my fluffy towel from the toilet seat.

Harry was silent all through getting me wrapped in a towel, and helping me to what was quickly becoming my bedroom here at Grimmauld Place. Thankfully, I had enough energy to slide on my knickers and a sports bra, but after that I needed help wiggling into my shorts and getting a shirt over my head. When I was finally decent, wearing one of Harry’s endless Quidditch jerseys and a pair of my soft Muggle volleyball shorts, he helped me down the stairs towards the kitchen.

“Harry, is Mia alright?” Sirius called from the floo room as we descended the stairs.

“Uncle Siri, I’m fine,” I huffed as Harry let out a chuckle. It was slow going, because I was still easily exhausted, but eventually we reached the bottom.

“With all your huffing and puffing,” Harry whispered out the side of his mouth. I shot him a warning glare, tugging on a bit of his hair with the arm I had slung across his shoulders, earning a wince.

“We don’t have stairs at Spinner’s End!” I called out, earning a loud booming laugh from Sirius.

I managed to walk on my own from the bottom of the steps to the kitchen, craving a mug of tea and hoping that Severus had come back with Harry. I leaned against the counter as I busied myself with the kettle, preferring to do it the Muggle way, then fetching a mug for myself and one for Harry. He quickly came around beside me, setting the sugar bowl by my elbow before pulling the whistling kettle from the stovetop. I hummed to myself as Harry and I fixed our tea together.

“Hermione, sweet,” a voice came from the doorway. I turned quickly, nearly knocking the sugar bowl to the floor but Harry managed to catch it in time.

Severus stood there, blocking the hall. My face broke out into a smile, until he stepped aside to reveal a beautiful porcelain woman, with long blonde locks. I was suddenly stricken with how much my memory deceived me, as this woman bore little resemblance to the one who tortured me. Her eyes, as she stared at me, were full of hope, and concern. Though the angles of her face were sharp, her cheekbones were soft with her mouth pulled into a tiny smile. I could feel my throat beginning to close up with emotion as she slowly slid past Severus, towards me.

“Narcissa,” I breathed, staring into her ice blue eyes.

“Hermione,” she greeted. I swallowed hard, flicking my gaze to Severus, who gave me a curt nod of encouragement.

“I…I…don’t know…why – uh, where to start,” I fumbled nervously, deciding to give a bashful smile before my emotions got the better of me.

“Oh, dear girl,” Narcissa opened her arms, slowly approaching me. I’ll admit that I practically fell into her hug, releasing a few tears into her travel cloak.


	3. November 1997

_Seven months after my torture…                                                                                                November 1997_

Parties were loud, and obnoxious, and I remembered why I hated them when a gaggle of society women laughed over their champagne flutes. Wanting nothing more than to throw up, I slipped out of the ballroom, walking quickly down the hall and up a flight of stairs. Despite only being in Malfoy Manor for the second time since my torture, I knew where to hide so I could breathe for a few minutes. Narcissa would never let me live it down if I floo’d home this early in the night.

There was a balcony at the end of a secluded hallway that overlooked the back gardens, which I loved to stare at. The sky was dark, but fairy lights lit up the stone paths of the labyrinth, allowing me to see once I shut the French doors. People were milling about, with the three sets of large doors to the ballroom left open to the night air. Thankfully the noise seemed to stay inside.

A familiar mop of black hair traipsed out onto the patio, off to my left and one floor below. I smiled slightly when an equally familiar blond head followed.

“It was nice of your mum to throw a ball in honor of Voldemort’s death,” Harry was saying, “I just hope that Mia is alright, she hates crowds.” I watched them sit on a stone bench, both facing into the garden, while Harry took a long swig of whatever he had in his glass.

“I’m sure she’s stuck to Uncle Severus, then,” Draco replied, “he hates these things just on principle.” They chuckled together, and it dawned on me how much Harry and I had missed having a third person around. Draco just seemed to click, even better than Ron had.

“He’s taken great care of her,” Harry said after another sip of his drink, “I think she’s almost slipped up and called him ‘dad’ a few times.” I smiled into my hand, squashing my laughter as to avoid being detected. I knew it wasn’t nice to eavesdrop, but every once in a while, I got curious about Harry and Draco’s discussion topics. Ron was never that deep of a thinker.

“Can’t imagine the shock that would give him, eh Potter?” Draco was chuckling again.

“I’d pay a thousand galleons just to see his face if she did that,” Harry said, and I could tell he was smiling, even with his back to me.

Then they were silent for a long time, sipping from their fancy glasses. People milling about in the garden trickled back inside, and I wondered if it was almost time for the benefit auction. That meant I could slip home, back to Spinner’s End or even Grimmauld Place, sooner than I thought. After a dance or two with Sirius, of course, who would have a tantrum if I didn’t dance now that I was well enough. I nearly turned to go back inside, before more conversation floated up to me.

“What happened to her old nickname?” Draco asked. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as I waited for Harry’s answer.

“The Weasley’s all used to call her ‘Mione, especially Ron,” he sighed, sounding tired. “While she was ill, and then refusing visitors, when she first went to live with Severus, they were furious. Mrs. Weasley wanted her to be cared for with the Order, and none of them trusted him, except for me.”

“Wait, didn’t the Weasel King end up on the Missing and Presumed Dead list?” Draco asked, causing me to smile at the old stupid nickname. I recently overheard Draco calling Harry ‘Scarhead’ with an affectionate tone while they were battling in Wizard’s Chess at Grimmauld Place. How times change.

“Yes,” Harry said, “so anyway, after the final battle, the Weasley family is practically falling apart with their grief. Mr. Weasley died, Percy died, Charlie and Fred were badly wounded. So, Ron comes and finds me, with Ginny in tow. They had both been on the horcrux hunt with me, and knew I had the Deathly Hallows, and they wanted them for themselves but I’d already gotten rid of the stone and snapped the wand.” Harry seemed to want this to sink in with Draco before continuing.

“I don’t understand, what does this have to do with calling her Mione versus Mia?” Draco seemed confused, and I watched Harry finish off his drink.

“Ron and Ginny got violent with me, and while that was going on, Mrs. Weasley apparated to Spinner’s End,” Harry said darkly. I blinked my tears away, forcing myself to hear the rest of the story. I hadn’t let Severus tell me, I’d just wanted to move on from all the darkness in my life.

“Thankfully,” Harry continued, and I watched his hands clench into fists, “Hermione was asleep, still exhausted easily. The old Prince house was under a Fidelus charm, but she’d been there before, and apparated right inside. Severus caught her, protecting Hermione, while Mrs. Weasley kept shouting that Hermione was ‘Their Mione’.”

When Hermione woke up, she didn’t want to hear the story, and didn’t want to be called anything other than her first name. Padfoot, of course, thought it was a mouthful and wanted a new nickname for her. He calls her Mia all the time, Severus does too sometimes. I usually just stick to Hermione.”

During the story I had slid down to sit on the cool concrete of the balcony, resting my head against the iron bars of the railing. What he’d said made me want to go to the Burrow right now and burn it down, because Molly Weasley was cowardly and selfish and evil for planning something like that. I wanted to find Ronald just to hex him until nothing was left, and then go after Ginny, who had said that she was in love with Harry! Despite my feelings, I stayed still and let myself cry a little bit for the family Harry and I had lost.

“And why did you advise me not to call her Granger anymore?” Draco’s voice seemed strained, like he was trying not to storm off and do exactly what I wanted to, too.

“She obliviated her parents before we went on the run,” Harry replied after a while. “I don’t think she really wants to be reminded of that.”

I sniffled quietly, because Harry was right. My real parents were gone to Australia, and I felt like I had failed them. So much so that I couldn’t even write my surname anymore, I just wanted to change my name altogether some days. Then, there was the matter of returning to Hogwarts for NEWTS once it was repaired, where I would constantly be called by my last name. I didn’t want it.

 

Once I had composed myself, I went back inside, needing something to drink and to find Severus or Sirius and ask when the appropriate time to go home was. Just as I reached the bottom of the stairs, I was met by none other than Draco Malfoy, who I had thought was still outside with Harry.

“Knew you’d slink off,” he said, almost shyly. I sent him a wry smile as he offered his arm, escorting me back towards the ballroom.

“They’d never let me leave without dancing,” I told him out of the corner of my mouth.

Once we entered the crowded room, my eyes scanned for my little family, spotting them easily. Severus was off to the side, talking to what appeared to be a writer for the Prophet along with a few members of the Hogwarts Board of Governors. Sirius, ever the flirt, had a glass of champagne in his hand and a gaggle of women around him, making me roll my eyes. Far off on the other side of the room, I spotted Harry talking to Neville and Luna. I smiled a bit.

“My mother,” Draco said, interrupting my perusal of the crowd, “will be starting the auction much later. Care to dance with me?” My eyes shot to his face, and his eyes looked nervous, even with the rest of his expression blank. I knew that him and Narcissa were still walking on eggshells around me, careful of starting an emotional breakdown or whatever else bad they could think of. I’d been told by Sirius that Narcissa’s side of the Black family, and much of the Malfoy family, had been all about protecting family, and I was family now with my ties to Severus and Sirius and even Harry.

“Hermione?” His voice startled me out of my train of thought, and I bet I had big doe eyes when I looked back up at him. When did Draco get so tall?

“Sorry! Sometimes I – I do that, just go all…blank.” I felt my face heat up in embarrassment, but then I remembered he had asked me a question.

“Yes, Draco, I’d love to dance with you,” I said quietly. He gave me a small, kind smile, before taking my hand and leading me onto the dance floor just as a new song began, slow and contemporary.


	4. August 1998

_1 year and four months after my torture…                                                                             August 1998_

I woke up abruptly after a vicious nightmare, my throat raw from screaming and my arm throbbing with the memory of the poison. A pair of warm hands grappled with my wrists to keep me from scratching at myself, trying to get their hands _off_ , and I choked out another yell. Still halfway in the dream, the Harry in front of me was bloody and bruised, and I started sobbing between my screams, still trying to get free of the feeling I was being tortured again.

A flash of blonde hair, not what I expected. Draco had shown up, but he appeared to be beaten too. The feel of hands on me suddenly became real as he dragged me to his chest, shielding me from his Aunt’s curses.

My tears were being wiped away, and someone was speaking, but I was just so exhausted. The feeling of floating enveloped me, and I vaguely hoped that Bellatrix Lestrange had just killed me. Harry could go on without my help, he had Ron and Ginny, right? Draco, well, maybe Harry would take him along. It’d be good for the Slytherin.

 

The light streaming through the window warmed my face, the brightness rousing me from a confusing dream into an even more confusing reality. Blinking my eyes open carefully, I noticed that I was not alone in my bedroom at Grimmauld Place, or more importantly, there were two teenage boys in bed with me, all of us fully clothed.

I was on my side, facing away from the door towards the window, which was open and therefore letting in the sunlight. I snuggled my face further into the pillows to avoid the sun, first assessing the body in front of me, which was Harry, who had his face pressed into my jumper, right over my belly. I’d known it was him as soon as I woke up, because we’d slept like this when I was still on the run with him, to keep warm. My knees would usually be on his thighs, but that led to the other body, who seemed to be holding me hostage with their legs wrapped around mine and arms across my torso, framing Harry’s head.

Trying to get a better look at their face, which was pressed between my shoulder blades, I twisted just a bit. He groaned, pressing me back into my previous position and cuddling closer, pushing the line of his body against mine for warmth.

“Go back to sleep, Mia,” Draco’s sleepy voice drifted up from under the blanket, which he’d pulled up over himself and Harry just then.

“Draco, why are we all in my bed?” I asked, voice raspy. I knew the answer though, the same answer Harry always had to give me or I had to give him if we woke up together.

“You had a nightmare,” he told me, sounding sad. I just nodded into my pillow.

We lapsed into silence, then, and I guess Draco fell back to sleep because his breathing grew even against the back of my neck. I heard clattering from downstairs, hopefully the kitchen, which meant that Sirius was making breakfast. A pair of heels were clicking in the hallway down there, then stopped as voices began, and I smiled a bit because Narcissa had dropped by.

I must have fallen back asleep, too, because suddenly I heard my bedroom door creak and a small gasp as whoever it was, probably Narcissa, saw me in bed with two large mounds that were obviously Harry and Draco, followed by a small chuckle. Footsteps trotted down the stairs, only to return a minute later with another set trailing behind. I feigned sleep, knowing it was probably just Sirius and Narcissa, as someone gently peeled the comforter down, exposing the way the boys were cuddled up to me.

“Nine months of practically living together and they’re all attached at the hip,” someone whispered, but I couldn’t tell who. Had to be Sirius based on the phrase.

“You said you didn’t hear anything when you got home?” Another person asked, also in a whisper. It was weird being talked about right in front of me while I laid in bed with my two best friends.

“I didn’t even know Draco had been staying here until you came and got me.”

“He hasn’t been sleeping lately, it’s especially difficult at the Manor,” they sighed, and I figured it really was Narcissa. “He and Harry can’t get a full night sleep unless they share a room.”

“Yes, well,” Sirius sucked in a breath, and I could practically _see_ him gesturing towards the bed, “looks like they’ll all be sharing a room. Or a bed.”

“Sirius! They’re much too young!”

“Eighteen going on nineteen is not too young, Cissa. Not if they want it. At least it’s not taboo, like in the Muggle world.” This got me asking myself if they were talking about polyamory. Surely I couldn’t be with both Draco _and_ Harry, though I did feel like I, daresay, _love_ both of them, though I wasn’t sure whether it counted as _in_ love. I’d never been known to rush into things, and the last man I loved went and disappeared on me.

“Well,” Narcissa was talking again, “I only came to drop off Draco’s letter, I should be going. I’m nearly late for a meeting at the Ministry.” They had dropped the whispers now, and I could feel Harry snuggling further into my midsection, which he did before he woke up.

“I’ve got to go get Severus to make sure he didn’t kill himself with those blasted potions fumes at Spinner’s End.” Harry’s snuggling had brushed Draco’s hand, who had unconsciously moved it further up my torso, closer to my breast, to get away from the sensation. Then, as though our position wasn’t compromising enough, Draco’s other hand drifted under my shirt to caress my skin, while Harry threw his arm across our legs. Despite the slight embarrassed feeling, I was quite comfortable and warm. I heard Sirius chuckle, then Narcissa’s lips pressed against my forehead and instantly I was lulled into a calm sleepy state and shifted to get even more comfortable. I had enough time to guess that she used a charm, before falling right back into the throws of sleep.

 

Voices pulled me from my sleep gently, and they were across the room, probably sitting in front of the desk in the big plush armchairs I made sure to have for my frequent hours reading.

“I don’t think she should go back,” Draco’s drawl was unmistakable.

“We can’t exactly force her not to go.” The other voice was Harry, and he sounded worried.

“Yeah, well, none of us should go back, really,” Draco said.

“Why not?” Harry asked quietly.

“The ridicule, on my part,” Draco paused to huff, probably at Harry, “don’t make that face, I’ll be spit on! The memories, for you, Harry. A lot went on in that castle for you. And as for Mia, it’s kind of the memories but I’m more afraid of her having nightmares and panic attacks without one of us being there.”

“You’re afraid all three of us will be isolated.” Harry’s voice hardened. No answer came from Draco, so I figured he nodded.

“But you heard what Padfoot told me,” Harry continued in a soothing tone, “Severus is going back to teach, so he’ll be there, and there’s a good chance we won’t be separated into our houses, since there’s so few of us returning.”

I smiled to myself, comforted by the fact that they were worried for me. Before the war I’d have been outraged, but now I knew that sometimes it’s okay to rely on others. Harry and Draco were being strong for me, and I admired that about them, though occasionally I would fall back into my independent and no-nonsense attitude. War changes everyone and everything, I suppose.

Figuring that now was as good a time as any to wake up, I groaned as I stretched out my limbs, not used to sleeping in one position for the entire night. Thankfully, I was quite warm as someone had thrown the blanket back over me after the two of them got up.

“Hermione?” Harry’s voice floated over to me as I was rubbing my eyes. I hummed in response, attempting to sit up but my body just felt so tired.

“Hermione, are you alright?” Harry asked while Draco came to sit beside me, putting a hand to my forehead. I tried opening my eyes, but they wouldn’t stay open, feeling too heavy. Something was wrong, I was relapsing, but I shouldn’t be! It’s been over a year! They had to get Severus, but nobody was moving, waiting for me to say something. I groaned again, trying to form words.

“G-Get,” I managed, trying and failing at saying Sev, or Sirius, or anything with an S. I was panicking, trying to get my tongue to work, finally remembering the boys’ conversation at the ball a few months ago.

“Ge-Get da-ad,” I finally choked out, feeling my hands beginning to shake. I heard Harry run from the room, shouting for Sirius, as my muscles began to cramp.

“Mia, everything will be alright,” Draco ran one hand through my hair while the other grabbed mine. “You need to relax, okay? Uncle Sev will be here any minute to take care of you.” The seconds ticked by, feeling like hours, as I tried to relax my body, feeling Draco’s soothing presence beside me. I groaned again, the pain hitting me like an aftershock of the cruciatus, my body betraying me. I’d been doing good for several months, only mild tremors, but this was new, and very scary.

“Mia?” Sirius called as I heard footsteps approaching. I whined in response, not feeling like I could manage words, and I felt another set of hands on me as hot tears leaked down into my hairline.

“Hush, Mia, everything will be okay,” Sirius soothed, “Severus will be here any moment, I promise.” With that I heard more heavy footsteps slamming up towards my bedroom. A sob caught in my throat as Severus’s voice started giving instructions, causing what I imagine to be quite a commotion in my small room.

“My darling girl,” Severus whispered soothingly, “I need you to calm down enough to drink this for me.” I felt fingers on my jaw, prying my mouth open as I swallowed an awful tasting potion, nearly choking as I gagged.

Slowly, the pain and seizing of my limbs receded, and I was able to let loose an embarrassingly dejected sob. Someone pulled me into their arms, smelling like parchment and rose oil and something spicy that reminded me of the potions classroom, so it had to be Severus. The man I’d called my dad, and who’d rescued me from my pain every time I needed him to. I cried into his chest, feeling like I was five years old again and had just fallen off the swing set and skinned my knee.


	5. September 1998

_1 year and five months after my torture…                                                                              September 1998_

The Hogwarts Express at Platform 9 ¾ was ever the same as it had always been.

Well, mostly.

This year, I hugged Sirius and Narcissa goodbye instead of my muggle parents, who could never get onto the platform anyway. This year, I stepped onto the train with Draco Malfoy following closely behind, and Harry Potter leading the way. This year, no Weasley red hair was spotted on the way to an empty compartment, but I did say hello to Neville and Luna, and get eyed warily from a boy Draco identified once to me as Theodore Helios Nott, heir to the most Ancient and Noble House of Nott.

I could tell already that our seventh year would be…different. The haunted eyes, the missing faces, and everyone with their dying gratitude towards Harry, The Chosen One. I took stock of who all had returned from our year, only counting those who should already be graduated. We were stuck with me, Harry, and Neville for the Gryffindors, Susan Bones from Hufflepuff, Terry Boot, Anthony Goldstein, and Padma Patil from Ravenclaw, Draco, Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson, and Daphne Greengrass for the Slytherins. Not many had returned, too scarred from what happened at the castle. Too frightened to be confined within its walls again.

Quickly, Harry ducked into an empty compartment, pulling me along. I turned and saw Draco glance at his fellow Slytherins, probably hoping that this year would be different, with no animosity and no enemies.

 

The train ride was subdued, and I stared out the window almost the whole time, trying not to think about the night we’d gotten our Hogwarts letters. I never wanted to be trapped inside my body again, and it had been terrifying to say the least, and now I felt made of glass.

“Hermione, we’re here,” Draco had shaken me awake, and walked with Harry and I towards the carriages. Everyone could see the Thestrals this year, so there was a lot of staring and a few smaller girls trying not to cry.

“Mind if I join you?” A voice came from behind us, startling Harry and causing him to whirl, wand out, on whoever it was. I turned to see Daphne Greengrass, with my best friend’s wand jutted into her chin, eyes locked onto Draco. Harry released her when he realized what he’d done.

Draco seemed to be searching for something in her eyes, maybe peeking into her mind for her true intentions. He’d become very protective of us over the past months. After a few seconds, he turned to hold the carriage door open, gesturing for me to be the first one in. I rolled my eyes, but accepted his hand and climbed inside. Once we were all settled, the carriage moved, on its way up to the looming, familiar castle. I could feel myself panicking already.

“Granger, you need to remember to breathe,” Daphne leaned over and whispered in my ear. When she pulled away I wasn’t expecting the kind smile on her lips, or the way she silently took hold of my hand, squeezing it hard. The action was grounding, and I took a deep breath. Maybe this year will be okay after all.

When we reached the school, Daphne let go of my hand and made her escape, looking back at me quickly with a smile and a small wave. I gave as much of a smile as I could manage back to her. Harry and Draco were in a quiet discussion, one that I couldn’t hear at all, so I let them chat behind me as the three of us made our way towards the Great Hall. My throat closed at the sight of the charmed ceiling, the long benches…

I heard crying off to my right, very faintly. Instantly on alert, I fingered my wand as I moved toward the sound, down the hall. A voice, a woman’s voice, accompanied the crying and sounded mean, like bullying. I groaned inwardly, not wanting to deal with this. I wasn’t even a prefect.

“Oh, you sad, poor little Hufflepuff,” the woman was practically growling, “not even a hero, just a worthless bitch after seeing mummy and daddy killed, huh?” I could feel my temper rising as I walked around the corner, where they were.

Susan Bones, a tall, curvaceous red head with a pert little nose and freckles and usually a no-nonsense attitude, was sitting on the cold floor in her school robes with tears streaming down her face. Looming over her, clad in Slytherin green and heels was none other than Pansy Parkinson. They hadn’t noticed me yet, so I looked at Pansy, who was also crying. Her black hair, cut short, was stringy and looked as if she pulled on it a lot, and her nails weren’t painted, along with looking chewed to the nubs. I laughed.

They both turned, startled at the sound of my laughter. I pointed my wand at Pansy, feeling a cruel smile on my face as my blood boiled in rage.

“Why did you come back, Parkinson?” I asked, stalking closer. “Mummy and daddy dead, or just in Azkaban?” I cocked my head to the side, glaring at her. She just stood there, looking at me for a second, shock evident on her face. Nobody knew I could be this cruel. I didn’t spend so much time with my new father and not learn anything, or pick up any of his attributes. Such a Slytherin, now.

Snapping back to herself, Pansy laughed, wiping her face casually.

“Oh, Mudblood, you act just like the know-it-all you think you are,” she said. Turning her icy eyes back on Susan for a second, sending a glare full of fire, she then looked back at me. I could tell there was more she wanted to say, but I just gestured with my wand hand for her to leave, and she did.

Once Pansy had disappeared into the Great Hall, I helped Susan stand back up, and watched her brush off her dust spattered robes. She wiped her face, sniffling, before looking at me with gratefulness in her large eyes. I couldn’t figure out anything to say to her, so we just gazed at each other, unblinking, lost in our own thoughts.

“Thank you,” she said after a few minutes.

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” I insisted, “you would have done the same for me, I believe.”

Now Susan was smiling, so I have her a small, kind smile in return.

“We should get to the Great Hall,” I said, gesturing behind me before putting my wand away. She took hers out, doing a quick charm to freshen her face, and we walked together to face the school that was once our battleground.

Draco and Harry had split to their respective tables, which surprised me a little bit, as I approached the Gryffindor table to sit down. From where I was, I could see Draco sitting with Theodore, Daphne, and even Pansy, who looked to be whispering furiously about something – probably me.

They all turned their eyes towards the Hufflepuff table, then the Gryffindor.

Definitely me.

The Sorting didn’t rouse any cheers this year, and McGonagall’s speech was subdued. She mentioned that those of us returning for our remedial seventh year would have to all get along, as we’d be sharing a dorm that was near the Hufflepuff basement. I smiled a bit at that, not so many bloody stairs.

Harry was gripping my hand up until the food appeared, then he started adding bits of food to my plate and his. I wasn’t hungry, so I just picked at it while trying to ignore all the attention Harry and I were getting. Dinner couldn’t end fast enough.

I was practically vibrating in my seat by the time McGonagall instructed Prefects to escort the first years to their dormitories, but unfortunately, she held everyone in our year back. She wanted to escort us to our new dorms herself. Later I would think it touching, but right now I was just really annoyed.

“Are you okay?” Draco managed to ask under his breath as we were being led towards the kitchens.

“Should be, later,” I said, forcing a smile.


	6. October 1998

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has become my reprieve from my main story, Miss Marauder, so don't think I've abandoned it!

_1 year and six months after my torture…                                                                                October 1998_

The first month back at school felt fairly routine and a bit like we were all waiting for the other shoe to drop. Draco spent an awful lot of time with Harry and I, and even Daphne joined him on multiple occasions, despite how often the regular seventh years and sixth years sent slurs their way. Most nights I found myself being wretched from a nightmare by one or both of the boys. I thankfully hadn’t had another episode like that night we got our Hogwarts letters, even though Severus dutifully checked on me every few days.

Everything seemed fine, and it was.

Until I fell asleep studying in my room and forgot to cast silencing charms.

 

_Burning, burning, BURNING._

_Fiendfyre everywhere, we were in the Room of Requirement._

_Brooms!_

_Where was Draco? Why was Ron there?_

_Try to go back…BACK! Get Draco out, Harry!_

_Ron, let go of me!_

_NO, HARRY!_

_Draco, Draco, Draco…_

“Draco! Harry!” Someone was shouting, with their cold hands on my face. I could still smell the burning furniture, see all the blood. I tried desperately to keep my eyes open because I didn’t want to keep watching Harry fall off of his broom into the flames. Then Ron pushed Draco back and shut the door…

“Padma? What’s going on?”

I couldn’t pick out voices any more.

“She’s having a seizure, turn her on her side.”

I was also sobbing, if anyone had noticed.

“Daph, run as fast as you can to Unc – I mean, _Professor Snape_ ’s quarters, tell him it’s Hermione.”

My body still felt like it was on fire. I could see the flames, feel them crawling up my legs and arms.

“Hermione, _Hermione_ ,” I could tell now, it was Harry right next to my ear.

“She’s scratched the daylights out of her arms, I can’t heal all this without salve.”

I felt someone moving the blankets off my legs, and suddenly I was in someone’s arms.

“I’ll intercept Daphne and Severus, just get her to the hospital wing.”

We were moving, now.

“How did you get there so quickly?” That was definitely Draco.

“My room is right next to hers. Greengrass is on the other side of her, she warned me the second week of school.”

I tried to make any sound, even a grunt, but nothing was happening. I started to panic, which was probably a bad idea but I’m only human. All of my ideas can’t be good ones.

“Have her night terrors always been this bad?”

“Only since she’s recovered from her poisoning.” I internally winced. Draco didn’t like to talk about when I was tortured in Malfoy Manor. He still has nightmares about that, too.

I heard doors bang open, and the sounds of footsteps, and felt a soft bed underneath me. The smell of bruise paste hung in the air, and I knew we were in the Hospital Wing, which made me relax a bit. There was a lot more talking then, but I couldn’t focus. More banging and more footsteps. Yelling. It was all blurring together until a familiar voice grew near along with the scent of parchment, rose oil, and a bit of ink which meant that Severus had probably been grading essays.

“Drink this, sweet,” his calm voice said. My mouth was pried open for me, but I could swallow with a bit of effort.

It started working instantly. I moved my fingers, then my arm, towards Severus, grasping tightly to his hand. He put something else to my lips, which I drank as well, and it turned out to be a calming draught. My muscles relaxed, and my chest wasn’t so tight anymore, and I had stopped seizing. I took a deep breath, trying to stave off tears.

“Was she sleeping alone?” Severus asked.

“Yes, sir,” a female voice answered.

“You boys know better.” He squeezed my hand reassuringly, then let go and I could hear footsteps leaving.

 

When I woke up, I was back in my bed, and the light that was streaming through the small window told me that it was late morning. Thankful for Saturdays, I hunkered back in, only to notice that I was laying on top of someone…someone who had breasts.

I sat up, startled. There, in a tank top and bed shorts, was Daphne Greengrass in my bloody bed!

“No, you were waaarm-“ Daphne mumbled, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me back down on top of her. I laughed, pulling the blanket back up around my shoulders. It seemed that we were having a sleepover.

“Are you two lazy bums ever going to get up?” A teasing voice came from the doorway. I poked my head out from the covers, spying Harry, with wet hair and a grin on his face.

“What time is it?” Daphne groaned.

“Almost noon,” Draco said, coming up behind Harry. I smiled at both of them.

Draco stepped past Harry, coming to lay a hand across my forehead. I leaned into his touch.

“How do you feel, Mia?” He asked. I could see the tension around his eyes, he was worried.

“Much better, now,” I said quietly.

“Well get dressed then, love,” Harry laughed, “we’re all going to Hogsmeade.”

They left as suddenly as they appeared, still smiling at me, but I could see the tight lines around their eyes and the concern in their gaze. Draco pulled the door shut and I rounded on Daphne.

“All? Hogsmeade?” It was clear by her body language that she knew I’d ask _something_.

“Let me go get some clothes and then I’ll tell you what happened last night, alright?” She squeezed my hand, sliding from under the covers.

Once she’d slipped from my room, I looked down at my hands in my lap and saw the bandages wrapped around my forearms. I pulled the wrappings off carefully, wincing when I could feel it tugging on the inflamed skin. There was a bit of blood on the bandage, but there was only a bit of scarring left from my deep, hysteria-driven scratch wounds.

I heard my door click open and looked up to see Daphne, dressed impeccably, like the pureblood heiress she is, along with another face I wasn’t prepared to see. Padma Patil, Ravenclaw, had a small smile on her face, laced with worry, and was also dressed. Both had their House scarves on.

“Hi, Hermione,” Padma said, moving closer to me as Daphne went to rummage in my clothes.

“Hello, Padma,” I replied, smiling at her.

“I came to check on your arms,” she told me, gesturing to where my hands were sat in my lap again. I held them out for her, and she gently examined them before pulling out a small jar of paste, applying a thin layer to what was left of the scars.

“It was you who healed me last night,” I realized out loud, turning my wide eyes on the woman across from me. She smiled shyly.

“Professor Snape gave you your potions,” she said, “I just took care of your arms, Hermione, really.”

“Thank you.” It was her turn to look surprised, and I giggled a bit before Daphne threw some clothes at me.

“Get dressed.” She then looked at Padma to say, “Help me find her scarf, don’t need Golden Girl here to catch a cold or the boys will have our heads.”

 

It wasn’t until I was dressed and we were halfway to the main corridor, Padma with us, that Daphne started talking.

“You were screaming bloody murder out of nowhere in the middle of the night,” I saw out of the corner of my eye she had a grimace on her face, “and it woke both Padma and I. She rushed in first, noticed what was wrong and called for Draco and Potter, who I ran and got from the common room.” She paused as they pushed out the main doors, beginning the chilly walk to the village. “You had to be turned on your side because you began seizing, and I ran to get Professor Snape, while Harry carried you to the hospital wing. It wasn’t pretty when Snape and I got there; he was _mad_ , Granger, bloody pissed at the boys for not taking care of you – didn’t know you were that close. Anyway, he calmed you down and gave you some potions,” she shrugged, “then he left. Padma cleaned you up, bandaged your arms, really she should be a Healer with that skill,” Daphne threw a smile at the Ravenclaw. “Draco and The Chosen One started arguing about taking you home, which is the point when I broke into their conversation and said they were bloody idiots, because you’d never heal that way. Also, I want to be friends,” she shrugged again, kicking at a rock in her path, “which is kind of impossible to do if you go home before the school year really begins.”

We were silent for a few minutes, but I knew she had more to say. After a bit, she started talking again, and we were near the gates.

“Padma said you were okay to go back to your bedroom, and that started a discussion on your regular health between her and Potter –“

“ – I want to be your Healer, if you’ll let me,” Padma interjected. I turned and saw the nervous look on her face.

“Why?” I asked her, utterly confused. I’d never gone out of my way to be nice to Padma, why was she being nice to me now?

“Because you need help, Hermione,” she said, pulling me to a stop by taking one of my hands in hers. “I spent all last year being the Healer for Dumbledore’s Army, along with Hannah Abbott, so I have practical experience. I know we’ve never been friends,” she admitted, looking sad, “but, like Daphne said, I _want_ to be friends. Merlin knows we all need to help each other out after how terrible last year was. And,” she grinned at me, “I heard what you did for Susan Bones, who I’m friends with.”

“I’m friends with her, too,” Daphne said. “Granger – Hermione – we’ve dealt with some serious shite. Susan cries herself to sleep every night, you were fucking _poisoned_ , I did everything I could to protect my little sister last year which means I had to torture people, and Padma here patched up some pretty terrible wounds and curses.”

“Part of Harry was linked to Voldemort,” I whispered, scuffing my shoes into the dirt as we began walking again, “he felt everything that evil man did. Draco had to _live_ with the bastard.” I realized I sounded bitter, but didn’t care. “The war took everything.”

“Not everything,” a new voice said, and I turned, surprised to find Susan Bones standing there in her yellow and black scarf. She wasn’t smiling, but I could tell she wasn’t upset. “We have each other. We have Hogwarts. We also have time, all the time in the world, to heal.”

She linked her arm with Daphne’s, who took one of mine as Padma took my other one. That was how we walked into Hogsmeade Village; a redhead Hufflepuff, a blonde Slytherin, a brunette Gryffindor, and a dark haired Ravenclaw, linked together in a show of solidarity that was welcome but still not actively participated in so soon after the war.

That’s how I suddenly found myself with three new best friends.


End file.
